


Do Things to Me

by odietamo53



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cheating, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odietamo53/pseuds/odietamo53
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danielle walks in on Liam and Zayn, it doesn't go well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Things to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a Ziam ficathon on livejournal.

It’s like some nasty punch to the gut that hits stomach and lungs and ohfuck _bones_. So she’s nauseous and out of breath and just aches all at once. She never walks into a room expecting to see, or not see, certain things, but this has her sitting in the middle of the hallway wiping shocked tears off her burning cheeks. 

Surprise, that’s the best thing to describe why she’s having to scramble at the wall to pull her shaky feet back beneath her body. If there was ever a time she wished she could shove a hand easily through her hair it was now. Instead she stumbles, like she’s had five drinks too many, away from the room, needing something, anything, that’s not this. 

\--

“What time is the train?”

Liam looks up from his suitcase, exasperated. “Do you actually bother to listen when they give us the weekly schedule?”

Zayn shrugs from his spot on the bed and fingers an unlit cigarette thoughtfully. “S’what I’ve got you for, yeah?” He casually places the cigarette on the nightstand, to be used later, and pulls out an already packed bowl. “C’mere.”

“Told you not to smoke anything in the bedroom, it’s gross, my sheets will smell.” Liam knows it won’t stop Zayn, but puts up a small fight anyway, for propriety’s sake. His bag is mostly packed so he drops to his knees on the bed just as Zayn takes his first hit and crawls forward slowly. 

His plan is to settle onto his back, watch the way smoke curls lazily from Zayn’s parted lips, let the acrid stench burn the inside of his nose until Zayn falls back onto the bed with him and they can lay quiet, savor some alone time. 

But Zayn curls a few fingers around Liam’s chin and Liam just sort of moves with them until their lips are pressed together, his mouth opening on instinct. Smoke leaks over his tongue and he breathes in, if only to feel Zayn chase the taste with his own tongue. 

“Not supposed to do this at home,” Liam murmurs even as he removes the bowl from Zayn’s hand so he can set it safely to the side. “Dangerous.” He’s crawling over him, pressing until Zayn in flat on his back and Liam can control the movement of his slim hips. 

\--

She sucks in breaths so fast she might pass out, but she might vomit as well so she’s got her head hung over the kitchen sink pathetically. Her mind says maybe this isn’t actually happening and she’s got to go back in there and check, because she’s been dancing all day, skipped lunch and hunger and exhaustion are forming some kind of fucked up tag team to make her see things that aren’t really there. 

Shaking hands settle themselves on her hips. Get it together. She wants to stand up straight but doesn’t think her body is going to oblige her. 

It’s sad really, the way she slides back down the hall, defeat already oozing from her pores. Lying to herself before she even needs to. 

Her palm is so slick with sweat it takes two tries to turn the brass knob and push. 

Apparently it was a sob she was choking on because it had worked its way out of her raw throat and the force of it almost sent her to her knees. 

\--

“Liam, please Li, fuck me _fuck_.” 

“Yeah,” Liam murmurs, wiping back the sweaty hair stuck to Zayn’s forehead. The fingers of his other hand rub once more over that spot that makes the black haired boy practically scream before pulling out to tease at his stretched hole. 

He’s already prepared, condom on, lubed up, but he has to pause, just a moment, to take it in, the way Zayn’s head is tilted to the side, face twisted in anticipation and want, flushing down to the hair surrounding his hard cock. And then he pushes in, strong hands pinning Zayn’s hips so Liam can fuck into him slow, force him to feel each painful drag of his solid length, keep Zayn from seeking his own relief. 

It only lasts a minute and then he’s got to lean down to kiss him, pry those kiss swollen lips open so he can catch Zayn’s wrecked moans and swallow them down. 

One hand presses firm to Zayn’s lower back, bringing him up to meet each thrust in, forcing their hips together hard enough to hurt. And Zayn’s legs are wrapped around his waist, working for as much leverage as he can manage, trying to bring true meaning to the rough intent the word ‘fucking’ seems to imply. 

\--

“You could have just told me.” They’re the words that decide to leave her mouth. After she’s coughed hard enough to dry heave and pressed both fists to her eyes like she could stem the flow. “Could have told me instead of this.”

She should be yelling. At least she thinks she should, that’s how it happens in movies. She’s seen her friends do it. But her voice can’t seem to get much higher than a whisper so she settles because at least it’s something.

Her brain is working at half speed right now, like someone’s hit slow motion on her life and she’s not quite sure how to proceed like this. And it’s wrecking her inside. Pulling at every horrible heartstring she didn’t know she had and contorting her intestines to Olympic proportions. 

She can’t look so she stares at the floor, noting the way her toes dig into the carpet, rooting her. “There’ll be no talking about this one,” she says, almost conversational, and if she’s getting any kind of replies she’s not hearing them. “You’ve really fucked up royally.” Laughter bubbles up in her throat and she feels slightly off kilter, insane. “Can’t say I would have ever seen this one coming, especially from you.”

Her hand grabs the wallet she’d rushed back to the flat for, sitting innocently on the dresser, and backs out. “I’ll send mum for my stuff, can’t say I’ll be able to look at you again. So don’t call, yeah?” 

She closes the door behind her. An invisible hand guides her out, walks her down the familiar stairwell, out onto the street, her street no more. But when her feet hit concrete it’s gone, taking with it some temporary brick wall her mind built to get her out in one piece. 

It’s here, in the middle of the sidewalk, people milling about, she hits her knees and really cries. 

\--

Liam’s entranced by the way Zayn’s breath hitches each time he angles just right, splaying a hand out over Zayn’s throat so he can feel the muscles ripple, catch each sharp intake. 

Zayn’s lips are moving with a mind of their own, chanting a filthy chorus that spurs him on until he’s all stuttering hips and sharp nails and burning skin. 

It’s a high he can’t hold on to, slipping as a voice that doesn’t belong breaks into the haze around his mind. He knows he should be paying attention to it, hear the way it breaks when it’s always been strong, the way it calls to him even though the words say goodbye, but he’s stuck in Zayn’s smile, too trapped in his hot flesh to let himself care. 

\--

“Li? Babe I’m home, forgot my wallet. Have you seen it?” Danielle sets her keys on the kitchen counter, opening the junk drawer because why wouldn’t it be in some weird place? 

“Liam?” She checks the dining room table before heading off to the bedroom where Liam’s supposed to be packing for a week of promotional events. 

The bedroom door is closed and she moves in quickly. She’s already so, so late to her last class of the day. “Have you seen my-”


End file.
